I hardly know how it happened, but the conversation once more turned upon the siege of Buda, and Stephen maintained, quite rightly, as after events proved, that even a successful assault must be attended by immense slaughter.
"The boy speaks sense there!" growled the smoke-hidden Teuton. "I know Hentzi well; he's just the man to strike hard and to strike often."
"Well, well. Our young friend need not be afraid," broke in the count sneeringly. "We shall find men stout-hearted enough to storm the breach when it's made."
"I do not fear for myself," Stephen answered proudly.
"No, no," said the count, laughing insolently. "It isn't likely, since you won't be there till the danger's over. Most men are brave enough when they haven't to do the fighting."
"Perhaps," said I quickly, stopping an angry outburst from Stephen, "that accounts for your coolness."
"A good thrust, my boy," said the benevolent Teuton.--"Count, he had you there."
Count Beula laughed again, showing his white teeth, refilled his glass, and answered brightly, "The thrust was parried before it was delivered. I have already been named as the leader of one of the storming parties whenever a breach is practicable. Kossuth's friends fight as well as talk."
"They do more than their leader then," said Dobozy, who formed one of our party.
The count's statement fell on me like a thunderbolt. I had thought him an arrogant, conceited fellow, having nothing of the soldier about him but his uniform and his swagger, yet here he spoke calmly of leading a forlorn hope.